


The Redeemer

by Nessa_T



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Setting, Death of minor character, M/M, References to Torture, Venatori!Dorian, spy AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:35:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nessa_T/pseuds/Nessa_T
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian is an agent of the Venatori. Since the Inquisition's arrival at Skyhold, he is cut off from all contact with Magister Alexius and his son, Felix. The mage is determined to steal away to meet his Tevinter allies at Dwarfson's Pass. </p><p>And The Bull is just as determined to track him down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [falsechaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsechaos/gifts), [ichigo-otaku](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ichigo-otaku).



> Written for the Adoribull Christmas Exchange 2015.
> 
> Beta'd by: TikaOn
> 
> Setting: Inquisitor Adaar sided with the Templar and did not meet Dorian at the chantry when Felix gave him the note.
> 
> Original Prompt by FalseChaos: Dorian is an agent of the Venatori, determined to bring them down from within and joins the Inquisition as a double agent. Bonus points for covert shenanigans with Bull. Happy Ending.

_The dreams returned as always and it was no different tonight._

_His hand was pressed against his face, left cheek stinging and lip bleeding where his father had struck him with an open palm. “Get out,” his father had said. “You are no son of mine.”_

_“Father,” the boy began to say, voice shaking, and tasting copper in his mouth._

_Magister Halward turned his face away. Eyes hard and lips pressed together in a grim line. The boy left his father’s study and a part of him died every night since then._

***

Bull had expected the first ball of fire that was flung in his direction. He did not, however, expect it to hurt as much as it did when it singed the top of his shoulder. The inky blackness of the night was momentarily illuminated by the fiery display as the mage, Dorian, dodged and sidestepped away from the Qunari’s grasp.

“Stop it,” the Bull snapped, his voice low and annoyed, one of his hands hovering above the hilt of his axe. If the mage were to charge in his direction, he would be ready to defend himself. His experienced eye narrowed upon the man before him.

“Stay away from me, Bull,” Dorian retorted. His voice was even, yet there was a feverish look in the mage’s eyes that Bull did not like. Eyes wild, breath heavy and hand gripped tightly around his staff – Dorian had the look of a man who was driven to act by keen sense desperation. Desperate men were dangerous men.

“You’re stealing supplies from the Inquisition’s cache,” Bull continued, attempting reason. “We’ve just arrived in Skyhold, and I don’t think Adaar would take lightly to someone stealing from him when there are so many who are in need of them.”

The mage had, upon his person, precious medicine, food and water when Bull caught him sneaking out of the castle hours ago in the middle of the night. Equipped with nothing but a pack containing rations and his staff, Bull had watched with interest from the dark corner of the tavern as the mage cloaked himself with magic and snuck past unsuspecting guards.

Considering that the Inquisitor had left at first light earlier in the day to search for Hawke’s mysterious Grey Warden friend at Crestwood, Bull had figured whatever it was that Dorian had intended to pursue, the mage had taken advantage of Adaar’s absence to do so. 

Dorian stood before Bull, back straight and proud while the crystal on his staff glowed ominously in warning.

“It is none of your concern,” Dorian said, his eyes locked onto the Qunari’s, body tense and ready for flight. They stood like that for a few long seconds, eyes to eye, before Bull snarled, ducked his head and charged forward to take him down. “ _Kaffas!_ ” the mage cried, eyes wide and arm rising to conjure another fiery ball from air.

Yet he was no match against sheer brute force. There was a fierce scuffle and a few balls of fire blazing in the night before Bull finally outmaneuvered the smaller man, pinning him to the ground. Face pressed against the dirt, and arms pinned behind his back, Dorian cursed and swore as he struggled before Bull wrapped an arm around his neck.

Bull squeezed, slowly cutting off the mage’s air supply while Dorian clawed at him, gasping for air and nails raking red grooves upon the Qunari’s arm, face and neck. One minute passed and Dorian slumped unconscious in Bull’s arms. 

“Sorry, big guy,” Bull muttered, setting him gently down on the earth before rummaging around in his pack for ropes.

***

_The dream changed, like a picture of winter transitioning into spring. The boy, now in his teens, was in the brothel in the slums of Minrathous. Head heavy with brandy, body hard and flushed with desire, he stood naked by the bed, watching two elves pleasuring each other._

_The door to his room came open with a crash. It was Alexius. The boy raised an eyebrow at the look of disapproval presented before him._

_“Ah, lads. We have company. Such a distinguished one too,” he said, giggling as the elves regarded them with some alarm. Then, simpering, he staggered towards the newcomer, wrapping his slender arms around Alexius’s neck._

_“You can watch if you like,” he slurred into the older man’s ear, “Or join us. There’s always room for one more.”_

_Alexius stepped back, sighed and shook his head, tugging at the boy’s earlobe. Not enough to hurt, but enough to chastise. The boy yelped in protest._

_“You’re coming home with me, Dorian. Right now.”_

***

Bull knew he was in for a hard time when Dorian came awake, and he was not wrong. Once Bull had safely hidden them both in an abandoned smuggler’s cave, it was almost dawn when the mage began to regain consciousness before succumbing to fiery fits of temper.

Eyes flashing and teeth bared, Dorian had made his protests loudly known, going so far as to draw blood when his shiny, Tevinter-made boot connected with Bull’s jaw with a resounding crack.

Still, Bull was patient, sitting cross-legged across the bound mage. He repeated his terms, expertly dodging further assault from the mage’s flailing feet.

“Nope. You’re telling me where you’re heading off to, or I’m going to have to turn you over to Red,” he explained, running a finger across his lip where a buckle from Dorian’s boot had caught and tore his skin. Bull winced at the bloodstain on his fingertip before turning back to tend to his fire.

Dorian was livid. Bull had secured his hands behind his back with bits of rope – making sure his fingers were curled into fists so he could not even wriggle them to cast any spells. For such a brute of a man, Bull was surprisingly clever. 

“Nug?” Bull politely asked, offering Dorian a piece of the creature that had been slowly cooking over fire.

“Release me!”

Bull shook his head, biting noisily into what looked like charred remains of nug feet.

_Bloody savage._

Dorian wanted to hit him in his smug face.

“No can do, big guy. Not until you tell me who these supplies are for.”

Dorian glanced at the phials of elfroot potion and small bundles of herbs that were laid out neatly before him. The damned beast must have removed all the content of Dorian’s pack, meticulously keeping count of the items Dorian had pilfered from Skyhold.

“Some food. A little water. A bit of gold. Health potions to last a week, and medicinal herbs to make some more. Someone somewhere is injured. Who is it?”

The mage remained steadfastly silent.

“If you had intended to go back to Redcliffe, you should know the place has been emptied of Vints weeks ago,” Bull continued, now thoughtfully sucking off the last bits of cooked flesh from bones.

“What makes you think I’m going to Redcliffe anyway?” Dorian snapped, struggling to sit up straight.

Bull shrugged, tossing bones picked clean into the corner of their cave.

“We’re in the fucking _Hinterlands_. There is absolutely no reason for a Vint like you to be here unless you have some business at Redcliffe. Nothing around for miles otherwise.”

Dorian sniffed derisively.

“And,” Bull continued, his gaze growing hard while he pointed an accusatory finger in Dorian’s direction, “if it _is_ Redcliffe you’re heading to, then we’re going to have problems, you and I. Big problems.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

Bull threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Dorian, _you_ warned us of the dangers in Redcliffe. _You_ told us the Venatori were trying to kill the Herald. And now you’re carrying all these stolen potions to go back, possibly to find any Vint stragglers who didn’t disappear with the Elder One… and what? Heal them? Tell me again how that is not treason?”

Dorian’s eyes slid away, suddenly uncomfortable.

“Felix is not Venatori.”

Short silence.

“Felix? Wasn’t he Alexius’s son? The one we met at the tavern? Why him?”

“He is a friend, and he’s not well. I haven’t heard anything from him. Not since we arrived in Skyhold.”

Bull stared at him.

“If you knew him, you must know his father.”

Dorian stared back.

“His father was my mentor.”

Bull sighed, and run large, calloused hand over his face wearily.

“Dorian, are you trying to tell me you’re working with Alexius as a spy for the Venatori?”

Another silence.

“If you’re a spy, you’re a shitty one. Just saying.”

Bull muttered under his breath, making a show out of unpacking and re-packing his provisions.

_Shit_

“Why look for Felix and not Alexius?” Bull asked, shooting Dorian a sideways glance. Dorian looked pained.

“Because I know Alexius is dead.”

A pause.

“How can you be so sure?”

Dorian laughed quietly, without real feelings. For a moment, he looked sad.

“I just am.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull sits by the fire while Dorian dreams.

_His eyes fluttered restlessly beneath his lids while he slept, his conscious mind oblivious to the waking world._

_A boy was standing outside the assembly room, just one amongst several, nervously pacing back and forth. His face was strained with both excitement and anxiety as he listened to the murmurs and applause within. One by one, students from various prestigious circles and great families entered the room to receive their accolade as newly minted Enchanters._

_“How do I look?” he asked, adjusting his collar and picking at non-existent lint from his robes._

_Alexius shook his head and smiled. His son, Felix, hovering by Alexius’s elbow, looked up at him adoringly._

_“Very good, naturally, Dorian,” Felix quipped, "I'm sure you'll do well when your turn comes."_

_His face turned mischievous, before lunging towards the new Enchanter, attempting to lift the hem of his robe to look at his underthings._

_“Have you gotten your lucky underpants on today? Don't want to trip and fall in front of everyone now, do you?"_

_The boy gave a squawk of protest, batting Felix's hands away._

_“Felix, no! Why you… I’ll get you!”_

_The boy gave chase._

_Felix was giggling, and then laughing uproariously, running circles around Alexius while his father groaned, appealing them to 'please stop' and 'do behave yourselves for the love of the Maker before my hair turn white from this blasted torment'. Ducking and twisting away, Felix even attempted to hide under his father’s robes before his mother finally led him away, sniffling, by his ear._

_“My dear boy,” Alexius began, his eyes suspiciously bright when he turned to face him. Alexius cupped his face before kissing him on his forehead. "I’m so very proud of you.”_

_There was a pause._

_"And your father will be too."_

_The boy looked away, his hand absent-mindedly scratching at the itch on his left cheek._

_"He's in there, isn't he?"_

_"Yes. He wanted desperately to see you - to see the man you have become now. It is a proud moment for any father, Dorian. And no matter what transpired between the two of you, you know he cares for you. As much as I do."_

_The boy looked at him._

_"You are more the father to me than he ever will be. Whatever I have done, whatever I have become, all that is good in me... is because of you."_

_Alexius opened his mouth to speak, but a loud round of applause rang out from the room and the boy's name was called._

_'Lord Dorian Pavus, member of the Circle of Vyrantium, son of Lord Magister Halward Pavus of Asariel.'_

_He folded Alexius in a quick embrace._

_"Oh, I think I'm going to cry!" he declared with a laugh, "Tonight over brandy, perhaps."_

_He winked as Alexius looked upon him in amusement._

_"Don't tell Felix!" he said in a stage whisper, eyes twinkling with mirth._

_Then head held up high, shoulders squared and back straight, the boy stepped confidently into the room._

***

Bull watched the mage as he slept. He was obviously exhausted after spending most of the night awake. Bull had kept Dorian up with an endless barrage of questions after his initial confession, but the mage had been less than cooperative. Stubbornly silent, Dorian refused to shed any more light to his questions and had fallen into a disturbed sleep, still seated and chin drooping to his chest, just as dawn was breaking.

Bull frowned. All he got from the interrogation was this: Dorian was Venatori, whose mentor may have died, and he was looking for a friend named Felix. There wasn’t a lot to work on but Dorian offered no answers as to why he came to the Inquisition the way he did. If he was the spy he claimed to be, he was certainly not able to take any actions since they fled Haven. Leliana had taken it upon herself to review every single piece of document received and sent in Skyhold before it reached the intended recipient.

Security and the position of the Inquisition had grown stronger now that they were garrisoned in the fortress that was Skyhold. In turn, Corypheus and his mages had all but disappeared without a trace.

Had Corypheus left Dorian behind to his fate? What was Felix’s role in all this mess and how could Dorian know Alexius was dead? Something did not add up, and Bull could not shake off the feeling that Dorian was caught in the middle of something he had no desire to be a part of in the first place.

“Things haven’t gone your way since Skyhold, have they?” Bull said to no one in particular. As if on cue, Dorian stirred, his brows furrowing a little as he wriggled against his bindings in his sleep. He did not look comfortable.

“That’s going to hurt when you wake up,” Bull muttered, gently examining Dorian’s hands. They were turning into a deep shade of purple.

Bull sighed, and got back to scribbling some notes to be sent to Skyhold once he got hold of an Inquisition runner at the nearby camp.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian is interrogated by the Bull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pfft, Dorian talks too much. -_-

_The boy gave a sharp start as Alexius slammed his hand against the table, cursing his frustrations. The Magister took a long draw from his brandy decanter, eyes red with sleepless nights and tears._

_“Alexius,” the boy began to say, pressing his fingers to his tired eyes._

_“No! This is not good enough!”_

_He was silent as he watched the man slowly crumble before his eyes._

_“We need more time,” came the feverish whisper. “Just a little more.”_

_“You need sleep,” the boy answered._

_“We can sleep when we’re dead! Again!”_

_There was the deathly silence as both returned to their research while Felix battled the blight in the adjoining room._

***

Dorian was in agony when Bull returned at mid-day. The mage had, of course, attempted to scurry away when his captor was absent, only to succeed in tripping over himself repeatedly, scrapping his cheek against the rocky ground and chaffing his hands against the rope till they blistered.

He gave a start as Bull approached the cave, blocking out the sun has he stood, gravely observing the mage from the entrance. 

Dorian panted, winced, but did not ask to be freed. Exhaustion left dark smudges under his eyes. He was on edge.

Bull set down his water skin and the nugs he caught before withdrawing a blade from its sheathe at his waist. He gazed impassively as the mage stiffened and attempted to scamper away.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Dorian. But I can’t let you go unless I know for sure that you’re not a danger to me or to yourself.”

“I’m in no condition to run, if that’s what you mean.”

Grey eyes glanced at the steel in Bull’s hand, and then back at his face.

“Right,” Bull said, slowly kneeling to bring his face close to Dorian’s. “I’ll cut your bonds if you help me make sense of all of this.”

Dorian paused, and then slowly nodded, a look of resignation playing upon his face.

“What was your mission at Skyhold?”

Dorian closed his eyes, sighed and leaned back to rest his head against the cave’s wall.

“I was not supposed to _be_ at Skyhold. That wasn’t part of the plan. Remember the note you received in Redcliffe’s tavern?”

Bull nodded his head.

“Well, Alexius had me plan an ambush at the Chantry. If the Herald had taken the bait, no less than twenty hired men from Tevinter would have blasted you and your companions off the face of this Earth. But _of course_ that didn’t work. The Herald chose to steal the templars from Corypheus instead.”

Then it was like a floodgate had opened, as Dorian grew more animated as each second went by.

“And _of course_ the Elder One wasn’t pleased. Took Felix hostage and demanded that Alexius perfected his time magic within the week or face execution.”

“Wait, _what_? Time magic?”

“Yes! The magic that was supposed to turn back time so we could transport ourselves to that moment before the Herald stole his precious anchor! Well, now,” he spat, “it didn’t work did it? It couldn’t! The breach weakened the veil, but we were not able to reset time anywhere before the breach occurred. It’s just not _fucking possible_.”

The mage tugged at his bonds impatiently as he struggled to sit up straighter. His wrists were starting to bleed.

“We needed more time. A distraction, if you will. If I could have brought the Herald to Corypheus, on Alexius behalf, it might... just might have given Alexius the time to... I don't know... escape. Take the chance to spirit Felix away. Or _something_.”

Dorian sighed, squeezing his eyes shut as he licked his lips.

“So I ran towards Haven. No one knew what the Herald looked like, but when I first laid eyes on him, I knew. I just knew. And it worked didn’t it?”  
He turned face towards Bull and gave a dry chuckle.

“ _I_ was the one who drew the Herald out of Haven. _I_ was the one who told him that Corypheus was after him. I _knew_ he would offer himself as sacrifice. It was because of _me_ Corypheus got to meet the Herald at Haven.”

Dorian was delirious, alternating between laughter and tears.

“But he just won’t die, would he? Oh no, not the Chosen One. _He_ wasn’t supposed to survive the encounter, yet here we are at Skyhold - me caught in the middle, having to play the role of both spy and companion to the Inquisition.”

Dorian went silent, then sneered.

“Do as you will, Bull. I’m a dead man walking wherever I go. The Venatori will want me dead along with Alexius, and the Inquisition will have me hung as a traitor. Still, all I ask is to see if Felix survived. I… I need to know for sure.”

“Where is he now?” Bull asked.

“There’s a cave near Dwarfson’s Pass. That’s where Alexius said we would meet once Corypheus decided to march out of Redcliffe. Felix has taken ill to his bed, but Alexius will not travel without him. We wanted to make sure Felix could be hidden away somewhere safely until all the madness died down. At least until our allies could come to take him back to Tevinter.”

Bull was silent for a moment, watching Dorian watch him.

“Does anyone else know you are working for the Venatori?”

Dorian shrugged.

“Just Alexius and the people we hired. He… tried to keep me away from Corypheus and Calpernia for most parts. Plus, he was careful never to let Felix know I was involved in all this mess. It would have crushed the poor boy. He was very fond of me, you see. Alexius and I… didn’t want to hurt him.” 

Bull nodded slowly, shifting to move behind the mage and gently began working on the ropes around Dorian’s wrists.

“I believe you.”

The ropes broke lose, and a wave of pain rushed through Dorian’s arms. He winced, grimacing as he gingerly stretched his fingers, examining the cuts and bruises on his wrists.

“Hold up. I’m putting some elfroot on these,” Bull murmured as he slathered some poultice on the mage’s wounds.

“These look fresh,” Dorian remarked, sniffing at the scent of newly crushed herbs permeating the enclosed space of the cave.

“Yeah, just made some while you were knocked out. Stitches does better work with them, usually. Could have told me they weren’t potions though. I’ve been chugging these for a few months at least”

Bull had started to wrap Dorian’s wrist with some clean cloth he had torn from his bedroll, creating a makeshift bandage.

“The good thing about all that though?” Bull continued, gently tying a knot, “Tastes like shit, but I’ve had perfect bowel movements for several weeks. At least.”

“Charming,” Dorian said with a scowl while Bull sat back on his haunches to admire his handiwork.

The mage rubbed his wrists again. Most of the sting from his wounds had faded away. Bull’s poultice had certainly done a good job at mending the broken skin. The two remained silent for a while, each wrapped in their own private thoughts until Dorian could not stand the silence any longer.

“So, now what?”

Bull busied himself with the mundane task of preparing the nug he caught, while he considered his options. 

“I _could_ let you go on your merry way, I suppose,” he said slowly, his blade making quick work of the carcass. “But you’re going to need my help anyways. So, I suppose I’ll be tagging along until you find Felix.”

“Just like that?” Dorian said, incredulous. “No Qunari would stand for it. When should I expect a knife in the back?”

Bull snorted as he stabbed the nug with his blade, worked what smelled like spices into the meat and started roasting it over fire. 

“If I had wanted to gut you, I’d have done so already. Anyway, I left a note with Red before I followed you out of Skyhold. Told her I was helping you sniff out some Vints right here in the Hinterlands.”

Dorian frowned, fixing Bull with a perplexed look. “So… what. You told her you were on a mission to help me?”

Bull gave an impatient wave of his hand in response. 

“Look, I’m a Ben-Hassrath reporting to a Tal-Vashoth Inquisitor. He has little reason to trust me, as it is. And you’re a Vint. Things are not looking so hot for you either, what with this… Corypheus being an ancient magister and all. Now, a Ben-Hassrath and a Vint suddenly disappearing into the night while he’s away? _That’s_ going to ring some alarm bells.”

Dorian opened his mouth to snap back a retort. 

“But,” Bull interrupted, shooting Dorian with a warning look, “a Ben-Hassrath working together with a Vint for the benefit of the Inquisition? And leaving a paper trail to prove it? That’s going to earn me and you a couple of points with the boss.”

Bull stared into the fire in silent contemplation for a few minute before continuing, his voice quiet.

“So,” he said, purposefully counting off the points with his fingers, “The Boss gets to be happy, I get to write lovely things back to Par Vollen, my superiors back home get to be happy and you get to live another day. Everyone wins.”

Bull finally lifted the nug away from the fire, poked at its flesh with a finger before deciding that it is suitable for consumption. Dorian’s stomach churned at the smell of freshly cooked meat. He had not eaten anything since the night before.

“We leave at dusk,” Bull said. There was a sense of finality in his voice that boded no arguments as he offered Dorian a portion of his meal.

“Nug?”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull and Dorian begin their journey towards Dwarfson's Pass. Dorian doesn't like Bull's pants, and Bull doesn't care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to have a busy day tomorrow, so I'll be posting this early.
> 
> Thanking you in advance for your views, kudos and comments. :)

Bull was as good as his word. He had diligently nursed Dorian to some semblance of health, making sure the mage drank his water, ate his food and then insisted on changing his bandages as the sun slowly set in the horizon.

“Stop fussing,” Dorian snapped, anxious to be on his way. He pulled away from Bull’s hands, hurriedly packing his belongings; counting and recounting the little bottles he had brought with him from Skyhold. 

“Fine, fine. You’re no good to us if you’re walking around injured, though,” Bull responded, pretending to look hurt while he hauled his huge axe over his shoulder. 

“Right, no thanks to you,” Dorian muttered, securing his precious cargo on his back before reaching for his staff, its weight familiar and comforting in his grasp. He rolled his shoulders, wincing at the strain in his muscles. A quick glance at his arms told him that the bruised from Bull's ropes had faded during the day. Save for a dull ache, he was none the worse for wear. 

They set off at a brisk pace, the setting sun casting long shadows on the rocky ground. Gravel crunching under their feet, Dorian led the way, sure-footed as daylight slipped away, pausing every now and again to gain his bearings before trudging on towards the East.

The wind had picked up and the clouds hung low in the darkening sky. Dorian felt the cold air to the core of his bones, and drew his cloak closer to his body. If The Bull had noticed the slight shiver that ran through the mage’s spine, he said nothing.

_Bloody savage. Walking around like that with no shirt on._

“You’re giving me the evil eye again, Dorian,” Bull said, ambling after him. The brace around his ankle clanked with every step he took. How Bull passed off as a spy defied reason, or so Dorian thought. Stealth could not have been one of his strong traits with his bulk, those massive horns, his booming voice, and his ostentatious pants. 

_Oh Maker, those pants._

“How can you walk around with no shirt on? It’s _freezing_.” Dorian asked, his tone surly as a fresh gust of wind hit his face like death’s caress. 

“We Qunari folks are made of hardier mettle compared to you delicate Vints, I suppose. We’re less likely to complain about the elements too.”

Again, the urge to hit Bull in his face washed over him. Dorian gripped his staff.

“Oh, I don’t know. _We_ Vints weren’t raised to roll around the dirt like animals either. I suppose I should be thankful you have some semblance of clothing on. What do you call that monstrosity? _Pants?_ ” 

“Hmmm, I’d call these my small clothes, actually. Pieces of fabric to cover my monstrous bits.”

Dorian gave a snort of laughter.

“OK, that was actually a good one,” he conceded, as his teeth rattled in his head.

Bull laughed easily, his steps confident in the dark. There was a rare moment of companionable silence between the two men as they picked their way carefully across the moonlit terrain towards their destination.

***

_He was striding determinedly through Redcliffe castle, ignoring the sharp exclamations and barked orders from the armed soldiers to stay put. Brandishing a note in hand, he had demanded to gain audience with the Magister. There was some commotion in the hall before Alexius appeared, calling these… “Venatori” to stand down and leave the room._

_“It’s not safe for you to be here, Dorian,” the Magister said, casting a disapproving eye on the young man._

_“Felix sent me a note,” the young man snarled, his eyes flashing with anger. “You’re not actually serious, are you? You can’t really want to join this… this Elder One?”_

_Alexius stood before him, defiant._

_“Calm yourself, boy!” he hissed, casting glances around the room in fear of being heard, “You do not know the power He wields.”_

_“Turning back time to change the course of history? Ripping holes in the very fabric of time itself? This magic cannot be trifled with, Alexius. It is dangerous!”_

_“Dorian, hush!”_

_Alexius grabbed him by his shoulders, fingers digging through cloth and into flesh till it hurt._

_“He is the only one left who can help save Felix. You’ve given up months ago, but not I. I must continue this fight. Alone, if I have to!”_

_The man felt guilt tearing inside, but refused to be baited._

_“Maker’s breath, Alexius! You know that’s not fair! I’ve sat with you, night after night for months, trying to find a cure while Felix wasted away! Every day he exists is just another reminder of the inevitable end!”_

_The words hit its mark, but Alexius had gone too far to return. No amount of reason and pleading could have brought him back and both fell into disturbed silence._

_“The Elder One. He wants the Herald. I would deliver him if I could. Then, perhaps even if I fail… he might show Felix some mercy,” Alexius murmured under his breath. He was slumped in his chair, faced lined with age and sleepless nights._

_“Who is he?”_

_Alexius frowned._

_“No one knows, although I suspect he will be heading to Redcliffe soon with his… Inquisition. Fiona had managed to have a word with him in Val Royeux before I… I…”  
_

He trailed off, too exhausted to continue and buried his face in his hands. 

_“I will bring the Herald to him. That will buy you some time. I hope.”_

_Alexius looked up, hope glinting in his eyes like a spark while the younger man looked him in the eyes._

_“I owe you that much. And Felix too,” he continued, his face wiped clean of emotions._

_Alexius reached out to him, but he stepped away, making a hasty exit._

_He paused at the door when Alexius called out to him, but steadfastly refused to turn._

_“Dorian.”_

_Silence._

_“Don’t tell Felix.”_

_Dorian nodded his head before stepping out into the cold Ferelden air._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian and Bull reached the cave at Dwarfson's Pass. Dorian is confronted by faces from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Implied torture / mutilation, Minor Character Death
> 
> This was a hard chapter to write.

The battle raged on at the foot of the cliff at Dwarfson’s Pass like a tempest. Facing an ambush by a small band of red templars, Venatori mages and their Shade Demons, Bull and Dorian unleashed their wrath with a potent mix of metal and magic. The mage sent waves and waves of fire through the panicking mass while Bull carved through flesh and bones, his mighty axe steaming with blood in the blistering cold.

The valley echoed with the howl of battle for what seemed like hours before it all went silent save for the slight crackling from the heat of Dorian’s magic. The mage stood in the midst of the dead, leaning heavily onto his staff while he clutched at his left arm. A blade had found its mark, and his wound stained his arm red. Still, his eyes searched frantically for any other signs of danger.

“You’re hurt,” Bull grunted, and made a move towards the mage. Dorian brushed him away and pointed a shaking finger towards the entrance of a cave cleverly concealed by a barrier.

“There!” Dorian exclaimed, his expression turning increasingly strained and anxious. 

He sprinted towards his mark; chest heaving while blood trickled in rivulets down his arm. Bull followed, close at his heels, nose flaring with every labored breath he took. The fight had taken a lot out of them. Bull did not know if they would be able to fend off another attack.

“Dorian, wait!” he hissed. The mage ignored him, his boots thundering over the ground like one who was chased by very armies of the blight itself.

“We’re almost there!” Dorian cried, “The barrier’s up! Someone’s inside!”

_Felix. Oh Maker, please._

Dorian skidded to a halt, rocks flying at his feet as his wild eyes considered the shimmery obstacle before him. He placed a finger gingerly on the invisible wall, crying out in pain when he felt the sting of frost.

“Ice,” he murmured, eyes fixated on something Bull could not see. Dorian retreated a little, took a deep breath before conjuring a barrage of fiery energy towards the entrance. Bull looked in surprise as the very air quivered like the ripples of water struck by stone, and burst into shards of ice.

Dorian took a tentative step into the darkness, ears listening intently for sounds. 

“Careful,” Bull cautioned, as they were greeted by a strange blast of warm air and the stench of rotting flesh.

“Red lyrium. Can you feel it? There was a thin vein here that was mined to sustain a few templar guards,” Dorian explained, half-speaking to himself as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the gloom of the cave. 

“What is this place?” Bull whispered, feeling nauseated by the smell of death and the sickly glow the lyrium emitted.

“Alexius told me this was where he had intended to hide Felix if he failed his research. Our men were supposed to protect Felix while they waited for our Tevinter allies to come,” Dorian whispered, eyes narrowed as he made his way slowly into the dark. The interior of the cave was large, and littered with human remains.

“Miners,” Dorian murmured absentmindedly as he waved a hand over the crystal on his staff. It started to glow, providing their only source of light as they proceeded to enter the darkness of the cave. 

“ _If_ he failed? You knew he’d fail?”

“Naturally. What Alexius has long suspected but will not admit, I have accepted as truth: Nothing we did could ever turn back time. He had sought Corypheus’s help to save Felix from his illness. A desperate act from a father who loved too much, I suppose. Sad that he only succeeded in setting the wheels in motion for his own impending death.”

A pause.

“And mine.” 

Bull was flabbergasted.

“You got yourself involved with the Venatori even when you knew you would be killed either way? Are you _mad_?”

Dorian gave a wistful smile, shooting Bull a glance from the corner of his eye.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him and Felix. I owe them a debt that is worth far more than my life.” 

Their voices reverberated in the enclosed space before a faint cry in the distance drew their attention.

“Felix?” Dorian called out. Another cry.

_Kaffas._

They raced towards the sounds of a man weeping only to stop dead in their tracks when they met with several bodies hanging from ropes by the doorway to a makeshift room. They swung like pendulums where Bull’s horns had accidentally bumped into them, the crudely-made wooden rafters creaking as they swayed from side to side. 

_Right to left. Left to right._

“That’s messed up,” Bull muttered, watching the mutilated bodies and their twisted faces above him. They had been dead for days. 

Dorian slowly raised staff, hands trembling as the glowing crystal brought the dead faces above them into sharp relief. Then, his face crumpled as he burst into silent, angry tears. 

“It’s Alexius,” he said in a strangled voice, his whole body shaking with suppressed fury as he reached out to study one of the corpse’s hands. “This is his ring.”

_Felix._

And then, with heavy hearts, both Bull and Dorian stepped into the chambers to face their fears in the flesh.

***

Bull had seen many deaths in Seheron. Too many, in fact. Lost close friends, allies and commanders who either died in defence of the Qun or were killed when they grew disillusioned and turned rogue. Yet those deaths had been quick. A blade to the heart always had that desired outcome. No prolonged suffering. Efficient. Merciful, almost.

This was not the case when they found Felix. 

The Venatori had murdered everyone they found in the cave. Brutally. Judging from the blood splatters drying on the walls, the rusty blades crusty with rotted flesh and the whips tossed carelessly into a pool of vomit, it was clear they had tortured Alexius and his Tevinter allies for days before executing each and every one of them. With their blood, the Venatori had traced out a name on the cave wall. 

_Pavus._

The bloody print served both a warning and a promise of Dorian’s fate should they cross path in future.

Felix, however, they had left for dead. With no provisions or medicinal powders, the blight slowly and surely ate away at his flesh, turning him blind. 

At the sound of Dorian’s voice, the boy, who was bound to a single wooden chair, had eagerly turned his face towards them, his irises covered with milky white film, face gaunt, body festering with sores that had been left untreated. 

Throwing his staff aside, Dorian swiftly but gently cut Felix away from his bonds and laid him on the ground, cradling Felix’s head in his lap as the boy muttered incoherently under his breath. He refused any potions or water that were brought to his lips.

“ _They made me watch, Dorian. They made me watch_ ,” he chanted as Dorian tried to wipe Felix’s face with a damp cloth, making soft soothing sounds to calm the boy and stroking what was left of his hair. Bull turned away. 

“I’m going to save you,” he heard Dorian whisper. Felix gurgled.

They stayed like that for a while, whispering back and forth in Tevene, before Bull heard the sharp hiss of a blade leaving its sheath. There were more hushed whispers, soft sounds of weeping, the hint of a lullaby, the sick ripping sound of a blade dragging across flesh, and a final gurgle before it went quiet.

Felix Alexius was no more. 

Dorian stood, his face studiously turned away from Bull.

“Let’s go,” he whispered. 

“There’s nothing left here for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be stout of heart, my friends. The prompt *did* call for "Happy Ending". O_O


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull thinks a lot about Dorian after Dwarfson's Pass and wanted to help him.

The road back to Skyhold was dreary and exhausting. Snow had begun to fall over the Ferelden landscape, casting a thin, white blanket over every surface it touched. The wind blew harshly, pressing against their skin like a demon’s kiss. 

The two companions trudged along in relative silence, stopping once in a while to eat whatever game they managed to catch or to rest whenever they chanced upon a cave. Save from the occasional outburst of anger whenever they traded words, the mage had remained uncharacteristically quiet and increasingly withdrawn.

Bull knew it wouldn’t take much to break Dorian. The mage hovered between wanting desperately to mourn his loss in private and being filled with the need to react violently over the incident at Dwarfson’s Pass. His fury burned brightly under that deceptively calm expression, threatening to unleash itself at the smallest hint of provocation. Bull was well acquainted with that feeling.

Yet, he didn’t quite know how to “fix” Dorian. Feelings were less complicated under the Qun. Any strong emotions, or worse, passion, were deemed to be a sickness and the correct treatment was administered. The Ben-Hassarath were quick to address any looming problems individuals might have. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t understand Dorian. Bull himself was no stranger to losses. Watching a longtime friend taking an arrow to the throat, tasting the spray of blood on your lips? Hunting down your once respected military commander who went Tal-Vashoth? These left scars in secret places no poultice could heal. 

Still, under the Qun, he was fixed – given a new purpose. It silenced the uneasy feeling in his heart for a while, and just when he felt the old anger simmering below the surface, a letter back to Par Vollen served as a stern reminder of his role and obligations. That worked for him.

Dorian was another matter all together. Bull would like to help, if it was possible. If the mage allowed him to, that is. 

Or he could get a fireball to the face, but Bull was happy to take his chances.

“Dorian,” Bull said. The mage turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow in question.

“You need to sleep. Let’s make camp.”

Dorian opened his mouth as if to give a retort before stopping himself, his jaw clicking shut. He frowned a little and then nodded his head.

***

When Dorian didn’t return to their cave after an hour, Bull sighed wearily and sought out to find him by the lake nearby. The mage had developed a peculiar sort of ritual after Dwarfson’s Pass. He would spend hours scrubbing his hands in lakes, rivers, puddles – whenever he could, as if trying to remove stains that Bull could not see. Bull would then gently but firmly guide the protesting and then raging mage back towards the warmth of their fire, wrapping a blanket firmly around him and held him tightly till it was time to break camp. Dorian, to his credit, was all bark and no bite, allowing himself to be held as he stared angrily into the flames till the sun rose in the East.

Tonight was a little different. Dorian was sitting by the lake, staring out across the water. He had built his own fire, except instead of the orange-red hue of a flame, it was green. In the distance, the silhouette of Skyhold stood proudly against the moonlit sky, its beacon winking like a lover’s eye.

“You didn’t come back to the camp,” Bull said, his voice only slightly accusatory. 

Dorian turned back to look at the Qunari, a soft smile playing on his lip.

“I was getting a little tired of the caves that you love so much.”

“It’s _safe_ ,” Bull grumbled, walking towards Dorian before settling down to sit next to him, grunting a little as his braces clanked and creaked under his weight.

“It's a _cave_. Makes for intimate setting, perhaps... for a nug’s coupling,” Dorian replied before turning his attention back to the lake, studying the soft ripples of the water's surface.

Bull snorted and handed Dorian a share of the dinner that he had prepared. Bull had caught some ram, and it was a great change from the nug they were so used to having.

They ate in silence for a while.

“Thought I lost you for a bit,” Bull began to say, taking a swig of water and wishing it was something a little stronger.

Dorian looked puzzled.

“You went under and starting doing weird crap. Washing your hands one too many times in the freezing water. I had to drag your ass away from getting frozen to bits.”

Dorian rolled his eyes.

“I may be upset and on edge, but I’m not stupid. My hands had Felix’s blood on it. Tainted blood. Extremely toxic if it comes into contact with open wounds. Any cuts or nicks would be deadly. Naturally, I needed to make sure all wounds are kept clean.”

It was Bull’s turn to look flabbergasted and Dorian looked back in amusement.

“What, you thought I had a death wish? Was that why you had so valiantly wrapped me in that ridiculous hug every night? To save me?”

Bull scratched his horns and looked suitably embarrassed. Dorian laughed and when he turned his gaze on Bull, his eyes were kind and gentle.

“I tried to explain, but it was as if you had completely shut down. I think Felix’s death may have been as hard for you to watch as it was for me to actually take his life.” Dorian said, those steel-grey eyes sharp and observant. "I will miss him, but it had to be done. Even you knew that."

Bull held his tongue and turned his gaze into the fire, lost in thoughts. 

“By the way, thank you for bringing me out here,” Dorian said, suddenly changing the topic on hand. “It seems our Tevinter allies Alexius and I had hoped would keep Felix safe had betrayed us. They must have been waiting for me to turn up before they decided I was taking too long and killed off Alexius and the few who had remained loyal to us.”

Bull gave an awkward shrug, and frowned at the dancing flames in front of him.

“You know who they are, Dorian?”

“Even better. I know _where_ they will be.”

There was a short silence, and Dorian returned his gaze to the shadow in the distance that was Skyhold.

“We will arrive within days,” Dorian murmured, wrapping his knees to his chest before casting Bull a long look at the corner of his eye. “What will you report back to Leliana and the Inquisitor? When we get back to Skyhold, I mean.”

Bull considered his answer.

“The truth,” Bull replied. 

Dorian nodded his head, before quickly looking away into the fire.

“That we were ambushed by the Venatori and some Red Templars, we killed them, and now we know the identity of the Vints who had tortured and murdered potential allies and informant to the Inquisition.”

Dorian gave a start, and stared hard at the Bull.

“You alright with this story?” Bull asked, casting Dorian a long sideward glance.

“You’d lie? For _me_?”

“You want the Venatori dead as much as I do. Would be a waste to execute or imprison a mage of your talent. No one needs to know you worked for Alexius.”

Dorian paused, considering his options. 

“Best to write an official request to the Inquisition once we step into Skyhold,” Bull suggested.

And then Dorian smiled.

“I can live with that,” he whispered, scooting closer to Bull and leaning his head against a sturdy shoulder, falling fast into dreamless sleep as Bull wrapped an arm around him.

****

Epilogue

_Dorian’s Request_

_Now that you're in charge, there's something I thought I'd bring up. There are Venatori mages out there, lurking in the wilderness. This comes as no surprise to you, since you can't swing a dead cat without hitting one of Corypheus's minions, but... these particular Venatori have additional significance to myself._

__

_For one, I know them personally. I would call them 'friends,' except that would imply I didn't want them dead. Which I do. Since I have an idea of where they might be, thanks to an investigation I began before coming south, I thought we could put our heads together and track them down._

_At which point they would sneer something at you in Tevinter, and you would be forced to kill them. Which makes everyone happy---you for eliminating a potential threat, me for eliminating men and women too stupid and shortsighted to be permitted continued breath. They would be less happy, but who cares about them? Up to you, my lord Inquisitor.  
_

Dorian 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and sticking with this story! 
> 
> Next Writing Project: The Qunari intercepted a ship from Qarinus that was on its way to Minrathous. The Magisters on board were slain on sight, and the slaves were freed and taken back to Par Vollen to be integrated into the Qunari's way of life. And amongst them were two strange and exceedingly hostile human servants named Felix and Dorian.


End file.
